


and it hurts like hell

by always_an_anxious_mess



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Head Injury, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Major Character Injury, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude, Past Child Abuse, Some comfort, Spoilers for the 3/1/21 Stream, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Well - Freeform, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, blame cc!tommy for this, but tommy still fucking dies, i was supposed to post a fluff fic today, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/always_an_anxious_mess
Summary: Spoilers for the 3/1/2021 stream. Obviously.———Tommy strained to move his arms, to do anything. But he couldn’t, not as the blows rained down again and again. Not as black spots danced over his vision and his lungs burned for air no matter how much he tried to inhale.He couldn’t breathe.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 385
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	and it hurts like hell

“STOP IT!” Tommy cried, the slightest hint of fear in his voice as Dream’s fist connected with his face again. “STOP IT! DREAM!”

Dream didn’t fucking say a word, just grunted and slammed his fist downwards again, and again.

Tommy felt his nose snap and start gushing blood under the blows. Felt his teeth crack and jostle loose, blood filling his mouth. His eye was already swelling shut, and his chest heaved over most likely broken ribs. The smallest of breaths sent pain through his torso, not that he could pick it out over the agony all over.

“STOP IT!” Tommy spat blood on Dream’s mask with his words, unintentionally, if you would believe it.

His arms were pinned by Dream’s legs, the masked man having plopped himself down on Tommy’s chest and squeezing Tommy’s arms to his sides with his knees. Tommy could feel one of Dream’s hands in his hair, yanking his head upwards so Tommy couldn’t try to turn away from the blows. The other was, of course, slamming into his face repeatedly.

It was growing harder and harder to breathe, his breaths coming in shallow, desperate breaths. There wasn’t enough oxygen, his chest wasn’t expanding properly, not with Dream bearing his weight down on him. Not with the sharp pain on his left side, jabbing in something deep in his chest every time he inhaled.

His hair was yanked again, forcing him to watch as Dream’s fist came down again. His head snapped back with the force of it, pain radiating from his jaw.

Tommy strained to move his arms, to do _anything_. But he couldn’t, not as the blows rained down _again_ and _again_. Not as black spots danced over his vision and his lungs burned for air no matter how much he tried to inhale.

He couldn’t breathe.

The eye that wasn’t swollen shut widened as he gasped for air, as his head was snapped back again with another blow to his teeth. He felt another tooth knock loose, though he was unsure of which it was this time. He’d lost a canine and a front tooth already, but he didn’t know what this new one was.

Tommy continued to struggle for breath, jaw opening and closing pathetically as he tried to inhale. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t seem to get any air.

Another blow to his head, this one strong enough to slam the back of his head against unforgiving obsidian. He heard something crack. His head. Obsidian doesn’t crack unless mined by a diamond pickaxe, so it must’ve been his head.

The room was spinning, his head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton as pain throbbed from every pore on his face. Blood was gushing from his broken nose, Tommy could feel something warm and sticky beneath him, likely the same substance.

He couldn’t do anything but stare dazedly up at the ceiling, even as his body subconsciously fought for breath that would not come. No amount of air would satiate the burning in his chest. None of his shallow breaths managed to bring oxygen to his lungs.

Something gurgled in his throat, pathetic and weak.

Tommy could see Dream staring at him, hands falling loose to his sides and head tilted as if he was confused. It didn’t matter though, because he was still sitting on the teen, and Tommy still couldn’t breathe. Though he was starting to suspect that Dream was not the reasoning behind his plight.

“Wait,” Dream sounded strangled, clambering off of Tommy. “Wait, no.”

The teen continued to stare up at the ceiling, urging his numb limbs to move, to get away. But he didn’t have the strength, and he still couldn’t get any air.

“Tommy, breathe,” Dream ordered, sounding angry but desperate the same time. “You’re not supposed to die today. Breathe.”

Tommy wheezed pathetically in response with what little air he had, gasping for more as soon as the sound left his mouth.

“Dammit, Tommy! Breathe!” Dream snapped, a fist slamming down on top of Tommy’s chest as if that would help anything. The teen choked, inhaling again in a loud, pathetic way. But it still wasn’t enough. “You aren’t supposed to die yet! I have plans for you, don’t think that you’re allowed to die to get out of them!”

Tommy was hyperventilating at this point, desperately trying to grab some form of oxygen, but it was like he wasn’t breathing at all. His vision was going spotty and he couldn’t feel his hands or feet. Every inhale sent a stab of agony through his chest that made him want to sob.

His head lolled to the side, unable to keep it upright anymore.

_I’m going to die in here._

Tommy wasn’t stupid. He knew that his ribs were broken, and that one had most likely punctured his lung. The only hope for him now was if Sam magically appeared through the lava with multiple regeneration potions, an enchanted golden apple, or a totem of undying.

But he doubted that even if Sam was on the other side right now, by the time the lava would drain enough for Sam to cross, he’d already be dead.

_I’m going to die in here._

_I don’t want to die._

_I just got everything back._

_I just got my freedom back._

_No._

_Please._

“SAM!” He heard Dream bellow, and he peeled his eyes open to see what was happening. When had he closed them? He didn’t know. The masked man was standing up now, facing the lava with his back to Tommy. “SAM! GET IN HERE! NOW! TOMMY NEEDS YOUR HELP!”

_He’s not gonna believe you,_ Tommy thought bitterly at the masked man, chest heaving again. _If he’s there at all._

“Don’t you dare fucking die, Tommy,” Dream hissed, turning back to stare at the teen. “I’m not done with you yet. Do you know how much of a pain it will be to bring you back?”

Tommy’s jaw worked, glaring at him the best he could, before spitting out a mixture of blood and spit on the obsidian floor. The liquid leaked from his lips, dripping slowly down. It was disgusting. Good.

Dream turned away. “SAM! SAM! TOMMY NEEDS YOU! SAM!”

Tommy continued his struggles to breathe, staring down at the obsidian floor instead of at Dream. If he was going to die, he refused the last thing that he would see would be his abuser, his killer, his manipulator. The last thing he would see would _not_ be Dream.

_“Tommy?”_

Tommy glanced up, confused. That wasn’t Dream’s voice.

That wasn’t _Dream._

A mop of curly brown hair fell over dark brown, tear-filled eyes. A stained brown trench coat dusted the obsidian floor as knees clad in dark pants knelt in rust colored-liquid. Translucent pale skin ghosted over his face as a hand that was there but also not cupped his cheek.

_“Oh Tommy,”_ Wilbur, the real Wilbur murmured, tears slipping down his cheeks. _“Tommy I’m so sorry. It— You weren’t supposed to die yet.”_

Tommy wheezed pathetically at him in response, unable to speak back. He could still feel his heart beating, though it was weak and slow. He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon. A singular tear fell from his watery eyes,

_“It’s okay Toms,”_ Wilbur said softly, soothingly, as if he was hushing a wounded animal. Tommy thought bitterly that, well, he was a wounded animal. A fatally wounded one. _“You don’t have to keep fighting. You can sleep. It’s okay.”_

Tommy’s chest fluttered weakly, and a soft whine somehow made it out of him.

_“You’ll be okay Toms,”_ his older brother pressed a kiss to his forehead. Wilbur’s lips were surprisingly warm, yet faint against Tommy’s cold and clammy skin. _“You don’t have to fight anymore. Let go, go to sleep. I’ll be with you when you wake up.”_

Tommy’s lips trembled, and another tear fell from his eyes as a heaviness tugged at his limbs, dragging him down and down and down and down. His chest raised weakly once more, before falling, and it didn’t rise again. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he let his eyes slip shut.

Ba...dum. Ba...dum.

Ba...dum.... ba...dum...

ba...

dum.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @Rose12610  
> Tumblr: @alwaysananxiousmess
> 
> I was going to finish that fucking fluff fic I promised Aria’s discord and post that today but today’s streams got me fucked up man. Take this angst.


End file.
